


How Far We'll Go

by likingandloving



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29604612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likingandloving/pseuds/likingandloving
Summary: The intimacy of it all, the way her cheek was pressed against his neck, how her soft breaths brushed against his suit jacket and how she just fit so seamlessly against him - all while smelling like her with just a twinge of him, was making him want to screw it all. The fraternization rules, the rumors, all of it.He'd happily go through it all for just a taste of this.Emily helps Aaron train for the FBI Triathalon. Set Season 7 - canon divergent.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 47
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter 1 **

Maybe this was a mistake.

Balancing his demanding job, his 6 year old son who had just started the first grade, and maintaining a home as a single father was already a lot but add the FBI Triathlon in front of it? He was also one to rise to the challenge, but he may have been in over his head. 

He puffs out a bated breath as he wills his legs to go faster. Aaron focuses on the singular pole in front of him, his destination, and tries to pump his arms just a little bit more vigorously to get more speed. His legs wobble shakily as they come to a stop, air a sore necessity for right now as his breathing grows heavier. Hotch had always been a decent runner, but he doesn't know how his body is going to feel after a 3 mile swim and 26 mile bike ride - he's run marathons in his younger years, but he hadn't done something that was genuinely for himself in the last two years since Haley died. Jessica had insisted on watching Jack while he trained for the FBI Triathlon, happy that Aaron wanted to do something that was not directly related to his job or his kid. He glances at his watch, checking his run time when a familiar voice interrupts his thoughts. 

"Jesus, are you running away from someone I don't know about?"

Aaron glances up, still huffing, as Emily Prentiss strolls towards him with a smile on her face. He hasn't quite seen her look so relaxed before. Aaron was used to seeing Prentiss in blouses and slacks and your typical work attire, so seeing her in a pair of tight leggings and a loose fitting Yale shirt was definitely new. His profiling instincts immediately point out the things that he truly wish he could ignore since they were not very appropriate details on his  _ subordinate _ . Her hair is tucked back into a ponytail, her bangs swept carelessly to the side as beads of sweat slide down the sides of her long neck. Her breathing is heavy and labored, a grin stretched across her face as she peers up at him. 

He tried to ignore the slight jump of his pulse as his eyes float down to the way her hips were being hugged by the fabric of her yoga pants, attributing it to the fact that he just run almost 20 sprints in the past 30 minutes. 

"Oh hey Prentiss. Why are you all the way out here in Arlington?" The name seems out of place somehow - Hotch does know that this is Prentiss, but there's something different about seeing her in the world, outside of the horrors of their day job. 

"I have a women's running club out here once a week." She gestures to the group of women in the distance, who are all various shapes, sizes, chattering away in the distance. "What are you doing out here?"

"Jessica lives out here - I drop Jack off with her on Monday mornings so I can get some exercise in." Their work schedule wasn't particularly friendly to the normal 9 - 5, but Mondays were usually more administrative then other days of the week and it adhered to Jessica's work schedule. "I'm training."

"Oh! For the FBI Triathlon in February?"

Hotch cocks his head, unaware of how she knew that. Emily must have sensed the question, because she just chuckled and picked nervously at her cuticles.

"You've been swimming or running in the mornings recently." She explains. What she doesn't explain is how she began associating which days he went swimming versus the days he went running were whether there was a whiff of chlorine laced with his body wash, a familiar scent that has increasingly increased in intensity the past few weeks.

Hotch nods, moving off the pathway to avoid the other people making their way through their morning. He looks down at his running shoes, breaking their eye contact as if it would make his next words not sound as heartbreaking as they did. 

"I haven't run one since before Haley." The weight of his words hang in the air. Emily shifts uncomfortably, not used to this degree of openness from their seemingly bulletproof leader. But she knows now that he's not bulletproof. He's  _ human _ \- as evidenced by the blood that sank into the fibers of his carpet on that morning that Emily knew that Hotch breaking from his normal timeliness was a huge red flag. One that triggered her gut enough that she felt compelled to leave Reid alone with the frustrated doctor who just wanted to figure out who was terrorizing his child among the hundreds of patients he's seen as an ER doctor. There was a deadline - one tight enough that they had been pulled from their beds on four hours of sleep after everything in that dreaded pig farm. 

"Well, she's right." Emily mused. "You've been working non-stop and taking care of Jack full-time. I know it's not easy and it's good to have something that's just your own."

Hotch smiled, unknowingly glad of her approval even if he wasn't particularly looking for it. 

"But hey, I know training is hard, and I've done like one or two triathlons. I'll train with you." Emily surprises herself with the forwardness of her request, especially since she is reminded by the thoughtful look she's seen countless of times in her career with the BAU. This is still Hotch, even if this is the first time she's seen him outside of a suit or hospital gown. 

And, she hasn't really done a triathlon since she was at the Academy.

"You bike?" Hotch asked, his eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

"If you mean by 'bike' you mean I have one and a pair of cycling shoes in my storage unit then yes, I bike." He laughs, like actually laughs, with his teeth showing and Emily doesn't know if it's the environment of the BAU and the terrors they're surrounded by that causes his stiff upper lip. She tries to press down the delight that grows in her that she actually managed to make the great Aaron Hotchner  _ laugh _ .

"Are you sure?" He challenges, knowing that she will no doubtedly rise up to it.

And, she doesn't disappoint.

"Oh I'm sure."

"Okay then. 6 AM tomorrow at the National Mall?" Just as Emily is about to agree, their phones start to buzz simultaneously in their pockets. Emily sighs, perusing through the message before looking wearily up at Hotch. It was JJ - they were being called in. 

Serial killers did have the most inopportune timing.

** 

Somtimes, Aaron could swear that Dave was a mind reader of some kind. 

Aaron heads into his office with a case, the file open in his hands as he strolls in ready to brief Dave on the Philadelphia murders. 

"Two men, both heads bashed in with a metal pipe. It's escalating, so Philadelphia PD wants us on the scene." Dave glances up at him from some reports he was writing. 

"Is there some race the BAU is a part of that only you and Prentiss are training for?" He asks casually, picking up his reports and putting them as Aaron just stares dumbfounded at him. If Hotch didn't know better, he could swear that Dave would have all of them bugged just for his own pleasure. An unfortunate downside to working with the country's best at behavioral analysis - even their own behavior was unknowingly subjected to scrutiny. 

"I ran into her when I was running near Jessica's house this morning." Aaron keeps the explanation purposefully vague, a trait Dave picks up on but decides not to push. Dave was acutely aware of the two powerhouse brunettes and their particularities and he wasn't surprised that his question had elicited a defensive response from Hotch - it wasn't the first time. Between the two of them, there had been many incidences that bordered so close to personal that those two just brushed aside; from Colorado, to every that happened with Foyet and the aftermath, and Emily's subsequent death and resurrection and several moments in between. All events where either of them were in a frenzied panic, maybe a little too frenzied even though they were all like family, at the other party's threat to their well-being. 

Rossi saw it in Hotch's demeanor at La Plata and Emily's steadfastness at Hotch's bedside when she had discovered him registered as Derek Morgan at Saint Sebastian hospital. Aaron and Emily were like parallel meteors - always just passing by each other in their same universe but with the right circumstances, those two were bound to collide eventually. 

Aaron starts briefing Dave on the case as they make their way to the conference room and what needs to be done with Philadelphia PD. Dave tables the conversation, considering that possibility that maybe it was just them running into each other during their morning runs. But as they enter the room, Dave notices Emily's eyes flick to the unit chief before seemingly remembering where she was, and settles down to listen to Garcia present the case. 

Aaron does his best to avoid eye contact with Emily, but as Garcia lists out the victim's histories, his own gaze settles to the brunette whose focus is solely on the crime scene photos on the screen. 

Dave notes the date. He has a feeling he'll want to remember it for later. 

** 


	2. Chapter 2

Turns out, out of all the things that Emily Prentiss was good at, biking was not her strong suit. Or more specifically, not being able to clip into her bike. 

Aaron stifles a chuckle that threatens to burst as Prentiss huffs, trying to reclick her cleats into the pedal without any success. She should have known that she should have tried it out before their weekly session - their fifth one now - that would involve biking for the first time. Aaron feels like he could keel over with laughter, but the angry glare she throws his way is enough to placate him. 

But he still couldn't help his shoulders from moving with the attempt to stifle his laughter. 

"You know, we could finish this ride a lot faster if you helped instead of laughed." Emily huffs, her cheeks reddening as Hotch finally controls his laughter enough to stroll over with his bike and help her adjust the pedals. She tells herself that she's blushing because she's embarrassed, not because her superior is gently holding her around the ankle as he adjusts her cleats for her. Hotch does some magic for her because suddenly her cleat settles in the peddle with a resounding *click*. 

Hotch doesn't even get a 'thank you' as Emily flashes a devilish grin at him and starts to peddle in the direction of their usual brunch place. Instead, she leaves him behind in the dust as Hotch scrambles to clip-in and catch up to her. 

It's been almost a month now since the two of them started training and as much as Aaron hated to admit it, he really looked forward to the random mornings that they spent together. It was never consistent - their job made sure of that - but Emily helped him train with any free morning that she had; all they truly needed was 45 minutes. He remembers her absently yawning as they stretched out, asking herself out loud what she had gotten into with the sun barely peaking in the horizon. He had told her that she was welcome to back at any opportunity, only to be met with a determined gaze and later a new 6 minute mile under his belt - a result of trying to keep up with *her*. Now, their mornings were routine - with them dedicating every spare morning that they could to running or swimming at the Y. It was only on Sundays, or whatever magical day they determined was their 'weekend' based on what work they had that week, that they took their time. 

Today, was one of those days. 

It wasn't long before Emily reached the hole-in-the-wall cafe that they mostly frequented on Sundays. She clipped off her bike and pumped her fists in victory, openly mocking Hotch as he slowed down to dismount from his bike. 

"I'm starting to think your clip-in issue was a ruse to beat me, very unfairly, I might add." Hotch teases as Emily clips their bikes into the nearby stand, holding the door open for the early birds that were filtering into the cafe at 8 AM on a Sunday morning. *Ever the gentleman*, Emily thinks as a smile crosses her features. 

Though, she hasn't forgotten that he did just insult her. 

"Well, if you wanted to beat me so bad, you shouldn't have fallen for it." 

The pair is immediately bombarded with the sweet scents of freshly cooked pancakes and bacons cooking over a girdle as they make their way to their usual table - the various staff greeting them with wide smiles and knowing looks. 

"Maybe we come here too often." Hotch eyes the one cook who is wiggling his eyebrows at him and wonders if he can get away with flashing his credentials at him just so he stops with the suggestive eyebrow dance. 

"Yes, you will definitely get in trouble for flashing that guy your credentials." Emily reaches into her own windbreaker, grabbing her badge and making sure the FBI print is visible to the cook as she shows it in his direction. As expected, the cook flusters and goes back into the kitchen, hoping that the two agents didn't see the joint he had tucked behind his ear. Aaron elbows her, hissing her name softly enough that the goosebumps raise on the back of her neck. 

"You can't be doing that." He chides and Emily almost retorts with the same response. The places which Hotch is touching her has ignited with small sparks under her skin that if he touches her enough she's almost sure that she'll burst into flames among all the bright-colored gingham table cloth. His hand is gently tugged on her elbow, in clear disapproval of what just happened. His breath slowly fans over her neck and the warmth is enough to make the goosebumps on the nape of her neck rise in anticipation. He can't be doing that to her, especially right now, where they were both in public and he was her boss. 

"The difference is that I'm not Unit Chief."

For a brief moment, when her cheeks dust with color and her bright eyes are peering up at him with a teasing smile on her face, he wishes he wasn't Unit Chief either. 

The moment is broken by the register becoming available. The cashier glances up at the brunette pair and immediately tries to stifle the smile that threatens to burst on her cheeks. She had watched this couple over the past few weeks of them coming here and she can't help but root for the two of them. It's obvious that they're not together, but they make it almost glaringly obvious that they're not together, like they're overcompensating for something. The side glances when the other one isn't looking, the way they act like they've touched the sun when their hands accidentally brush. It was better than the romance novel she had tucked in her purse. 

Hotch resists the urge to rest a hand on her lower back - he wonders if her skin is as soft as Haley's, or if he digs his fingers a little bit he can feel right where her spine dips and if it'll make her do that breathy moan that she does when she first bites into her lemon curd pancakes. He scolds himself, because he *can't* be thinking of her that way. She orders black tea and her lemon curd pancakes while he wills his thoughts away from the subject of her and gets a breakfast sandwich and his normal black coffee. 

They settle in a nearby table and talk about the nominal things in life, staying away from serial killers and their devious tendencies. Emily recounts a tale of coming home to Sergio and one of her favorite house plants knocked over while Hotch regales her with Jack's new class crush and his inability to deal with his son's sudden romantic life. She laughs at his exasperated expression and he is maybe a little dramatic with his retelling, but she laughs and it makes a warmth rise in his chest and he can't stop. 

"For Emily and Aaron?" The waitress interrupts their conversation, balancing their orders on a tray. 

Hotch immediately spring into action, helping her unload their breakfast unto the table and the waitress flashes Hotch a flirty smile. Emily pointedly ignores the interaction and the way their names blended together perfectly, choosing instead to dig into her sweet breakfast. 

"What's up, Prentiss?" Hotch asks, after the silence weighs on them for a good moment. Emily is broken out of her thoughts by Hotch raising a curious eyebrow at her. 

"It's just weird, I guess." She approaches her thoughts with caution. She knows that their work relationship precedes whatever this is, because people are actually counting on them to be able to do their jobs without bias. Emily feels like she's toeing the line that they're both too cautious to cross, but there's a part of her that doesn't want to keep whatever this is, whatever is growing between them, to be buried. 

They've both had their fill of secrets for this lifetime. 

"I still can't believe that you're still the same Hotch that I work with."

Oddly enough, Hotch knows what she means. On days where they have time, they ignore everything that came before this moment. There aren't any crazed people with homicidal tendencies, or things that lurk in the dark that threaten to take away everything they hold dear to them. It was a coping mechanism - one that they did to be able to function with the jobs that they did have. They built thick walls around those they cared about and the things that could hurt them. zThey needed to be the collected and calm Agent Hotchner and Agent Prentiss because if they let their emotions seep into the situations, the sheer volume of the worst of the human race that they see would be enough to make anyone quit. So they build walls, and keep their emotions and the things they loved behind steel reinforced panels to keep them safe. 

But when they have more than 45 minutes, they each slowly start to emerge from behind the protection they put up. Hotch shares a little bit more about Jack and Emily knows that he's growing up just fine despite all the trauma that haunted him from such a young age. Emily talks about what it was like as a kid, with all the social conventions of the upper class weighing on her parents' every decision - how lonely and outcast she felt as a child forced to build a life on unstable foundations and Hotch asks her questions that make her feel heard. They take down the boundaries they've always put up. 

On days like these, they aren't Agent Hotchner or Agent Prentiss. They're just Emily and Aaron. 

"Well, out here -" Hotch gestures vaguely around him. Here, in this alternate little universe they've built for themselves. "- you can call me Aaron."

A small smile crosses her face. She extends out her hand. 

"Hi Aaron. I'm Emily. It's nice to meet you."

\--

They end brunch an hour later, leaving with promises to go swimming on that Monday morning. Aaron calls her Emily and she calls him Hotch, a wary smile on her lips. Aaron is a little disappointed, but he understands. She has trouble trusting others and he knows how that feels, but he doesn't have trouble trusting her. So he just smiles and awkwardly waves before making his way back to a 6 year old who is very excited about the prospect of going to the zoo later that day. 

But on Monday, right when a bleary eyed Emily shows up to the Y, she presses coffee into his hand with the word 'Aaron' written on the side in black marker. He can't help but smile and think that maybe she doesn't have trouble trusting him either. 

Later, when the coffee is cold and cleaned out, the empty cup finds its way to his desk. It sits on the edge, the black writing facing him as he writes out case reports and every time he looks at it, he can't help but smile. 

\--

She calls him Aaron on the Sundays where they have time and they train most mornings, but it's been harder to carve out longer training sessions with their workload consistently piling on. So on most days, she calls him Hotch and he (mostly) calls her Prentiss and they try and not hover too close to each other. They weren't truly anything but training partners, but Emily can feel herself barreling towards seriously having feelings for her superior. She had to pump the brakes before she ended up being the star of the second scandal of the BAU. 

Whatever it was now, the skirting of a line both of them are too stubborn to cross, was good enough. Just the faint taste of a possibility with him would keep her happy. 

They get whisked off to San Francisco when a decades-old MO shows up at a crime scene. At first glance, it's a little too good to be true. The photo from the old crime scene, the exact same overkill on each of the victims, and that dreaded cross crudely drawn in blood - evidence enough to compel the San Francisco Police Department that it was the return of the Zodiac killer. 

She worries about Spencer, who starts to doubt himself after a brush with the founder of Nanovex. Emily wonders what that's like - to be a child that felt so full of possibility, only to fall short of their own expectations for themselves. Hotch notices Reid's stiffness and the way he starts to doubt his instincts, and pulls Emily to the side to ask her about it. 

"Is Reid okay?" He asks. Emily glances around the precinct, making sure Reid had gone to the conference room with Morgan.

"He's fine, just a little mid-life crisis." Emily says reassuringly. "That or he's butthurt about us forgetting his birthday."

The side of Aaron's mouth starts to lift up in small smile which he feels guilty for because a taste of happiness in a room that was so full of horror felt like an indulgent sin - not one to be had during these moments. She promises that she will let him know if she needs help, and excuses herself to go to the conference room, determined to think about proving how this unsub wasn't the Zodiac Killer, instead of Aaron Hotchner's left dimple. 

But as the bodies keep coming, the pieces start falling out of place. When they look at the evidence, some of it was random, non-sensical, and was confusing most of the team - except of course, for Reid. He figures how everything fits together and if life were a puzzle, this crime scene was a Japanese 3D puzzle. Multiple dimensions and hidden messages in every intentional action - truly too complex for someone who wasn't a member of MENSA. With Reid's guidance, they find the unsubs in a warehouse and arrest them after they confess to the murder of Robbie Shaw. 

They fly back shortly after, with Rossi tasked with keeping Reid occupied as Emily and JJ coordinated with Garcia via text about a surprise party for Spencer. Eventually, the team to falls asleep in various positions around the jet, with the exception of Hotch and Emily. Hotch is bent over paperwork, eager to get the process of filing this case away started. Emily sits across from him, eyes trained out the window as she lets the sound of his pen on paper fill her background. 

"You're not tired?" Hotch asks, not glancing up from what he was writing on his form. 

"Aren't you?" 

Hotch gestures to the nearly empty mug of cold coffee on the table. 

"I'm pretty sure it's a placebo effect with the amount of coffee we drink, but it's doing it's job right now." He cocks his head slightly, observing the nervous way she picked on her nails. With her gaze constantly shifting to out the window, he figures that she doesn't want to talk about what was bothering her - especially not on a plane where the only thing that separated them and their colleagues was a thin veil of poor quality sleep. So instead, he does the only thing he knows will help distract her. 

"Jack's at his first sleepover tonight." Hotch says, looking to Emily for a reaction. Her eyes light up and for a moment, the worry lines on her forehead ease as she hears Jack's name. 

"Oh! That was today?" He nods. Hotch had mentioned it in the previous week, sharing his worries about how Jack was going to feel being away from him for a night. 

"Jessica dropped him off this afternoon. I called him while we were having lunch today - he said they were having mac and cheese and hotdogs and he seemed pretty thrilled about that." 

"I mean, mac and cheese AND hotdogs? I feel like that kid's living the life."

"But then why does he act like he's never had mac and cheese in his life? I've made him plenty of mac and cheese."

Hotch effectively gets her all riled up about boxed mac and cheese versus homemade mac and cheese (the only kind that he makes) and Hotch isn't surprised that she defends Kraft like it was her own surname. But his segue does it's job - her shoulders relax, the tension in her jaw releases and she smiles at him. 

She mouths a 'thank you' and reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. He doesn't think he realized how soft her palms would be or how slender her fingers were. There's a warmth, a familiar and soothing one, settling in his chest as she continues to touch him and all he knows is that he doesn't want her to stop. It isn't until Reid mumbles something unintelligble in his sleep that the two pull back like they've been caught, clearing throats and settling back in silence for the rest of the flight. 

A reminder of the team's presence jolts them back to reality - that they could only continue to dance on the edges of the fine line between who they needed to be and who they wanted to be. 

Here, they needed to be Prentiss and Hotch. 

There would be another day for Aaron and Emily. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why all of my writing muse comes in the depths of the night - enjoy this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

She can feel the heat of his breath, travelling across her neck. His hands are squeezing her tightly, wrapped around her wrists as he presses her down.

"Emily Prentiss." He hisses, sending shivers up her spine. 

She's breathless, his hands leaving marks on her wrists at how tightly he's squeezing; like he's afraid she's going to vanish in thin air. 

Familiar fingers trail down towards her shirt, unbuttoning each button with care. 

Then, she smells it. 

The burning flesh, the rancid smell of her skin vanishing into the air along with her screams. She writhes and screams, trying to do anything to stop him from frying her skin in the cruel way that the North Koreans did. 

"You thought you could escape me, couldn't you?" Ian Doyle smiles, the evil behind his eyes a vivid memory one she is sure to remember for the rest of her life. 

_Beep beep beep_ _beep_

Her alarm clock rattles her out of her nightmare with a shrill sound. She can feel the sweat that drenches her back and the tightness in her chest as Sergio jumps up from his usual spot by her legs as she dart up. Her eyes dart around, checking all the potential entrances before taking purposeful breaths in and out the same way she learned when her nightmares are wreaked havoc on her the first week she had been in Bethesda. One of her nurses, an older lady named Roberta, had coaxed her through when she had woken from her first nightmare. 

"You're okay, sweet girl. You're safe." She had cooed, before injecting a little more sedative into her IV line. Roberta led her through a breathing exercise, asking her to place a hand on her chest and follow the movement of her breaths. At that moment, Emily wasn't sure if it was the drugs in her system or the feeling of a motherly touch against her clammy hair, but she soon dozed back into a medicated sleep. 

She focuses on the rise and fall of her chest, feeling the air fill her lungs. Those were one of the less vivid ones - the intensity of her dreams were fading and these smaller clips of terror were more welcome compared to the full reenactments of being in that warehouse with Doyle. In the beginning, she could see and feel it all. She smelled the rank stench of tabacco on his breath, mixed with that spearmint gum that he always has a pack of in his back pocket. The nightmares had almost always lasted the full length of her capture and always ended with Morgan's eyes, his praises for her bravery singing in her ear. 

Her dutiful partner sits on the corner of her bed, his tail curved and head cocked in curiosity. He slowly makes his way towards her, crawling onto her lap and trying to fit his head in the crook of her neck. Getting Sergio back from Penelope wasn't a hard decision, despite the fact that Emily was worried when Penelope first offered that he might be enjoying his new life more. Garcia must have been picking up profiling tips from Morgan again because she had insisted that she take Sergio back. 

"He missed you. He would always meow at my phone whenever I showed him pictures of you." And when Emily looked at her like she was a little crazy for showing her cat pictures of her, she just stated matter-of-factly:

"I would never let him forget his mother."

She picked Sergio up that afternoon and he wouldn't leave her side from the moment they got home. He never used to follow her around this intently, mostly because he got bored really quickly and would prefer to spend his time napping or watching birds by her bay window. 

But since she brought him home, he's been her little shadow - present even in the moments where she least expects him. 

He had started to come to her after her first few nightmares. She still remembers that one - the same dream in a different scale. Doyle had plunged the broken wooden leg into her, before leaning down and whispering -

"It was pleasure doing business with you, Lauren."

Emily woke up in a cold sweat and Sergio was magically by her side, rubbing his head under her chin as she gasped for breath. She focused on Sergio's warmth and the feeling of his paws on her lap as it helped bring her out of her nightmare - like he knew exactly what she had needed at that moment. Now, the nightmares were less frequent, but it still didn't stop him from being by her side from the moment she wakes up. 

"You are so sweet." She coos to the kitty, giving him his well-deserved ear scratch and pressing a kiss on top of his furry head in appreciation. Emily glances at her clock, it's big green letters reading  _ 6:15 AM _ . Sergio lets out a soft meow beside her and she chuckles. 

"Yes, Sergio I know what time it is." Rolling her eyes, Emily set off to the kitchen to get Sergio his food and get ready for her last bureau mandated therapy session. 

When she first got back, she didn't know what wheels were in motion for her at the FBI. As far as the broader US Government knew, she was still under protection in France and the red tape of getting her back at the BAU was draining. In the end, they had told her that her return to the BAU was contingent of having bi-weekly therapy sessions for at least 6 months and until a bureau recommended therapist gave her a clean bill of health. Joanna, her therapist, had hinted that their next therapy session would be her last one - she felt confident enough in Emily to send her back in the field without bi-weekly therapy sessions. 

In truth, she did like Joanna. Joanna reminded her of her mother, if her mother had genuinely cared about something outside of her family and diplomatic relations. Emily had been open to the idea of going to therapy, especially in the beginning when the nightmares were relentless and she ended up needing a prescription for sleeping pills, but now that 6 months had passed and she had reintegrated, it felt more tedious now that her nightmares and anxieties surrounding her capture and death had subsided.

So, instead of actually paying attention to what Joanna is saying, she zones out during her session before Joanna calls her attention back. She apologizes, hoping Joanna didn't pick up on it and force her to reveal what happened this morning. 

"I said this is our last session." Emily slowly relaxes at the confirmation that instead of being grilled, that therapy would be over. 

"How are your nails?" Ah. Luckily, being a profiler had it's advantages. She knew what Joanna was doing - she was doing her last checks before sending her off. She repeats the status of her still-unbitten nails and lies smoothly about it being two weeks since the last dream because she had  _ technically _ slept through the entire night and that what happened was more of a flashback than a dream.

It was just semantics. 

It's then that Joanna asks an interesting question. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you never had the chance to mourn your own death, did you?"

"I'm sorry - I don't understand the question." Emily truly doesn't understand what she means. Mourn her own death? She was right here, and alive, as far as she was aware. 

"As part of protecting your identity, your team had to bury you. They lost someone they loved. Maybe you did too." Joanna asks her to think about it and she promises that she will when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. Joanna gives her a smile and nods. 

"Go ahead. I know duty calls. I'll send your superiors my clearance." Emily smiles at her gratefully, saying her last goodbyes and pushing Joanna's question out her head, instead focusing on the words on her phone from Hotch.

_ Houston PD needs us ASAP. Briefing in 30. _

\--

He first notices her exhausted expression in the briefing room, when Garcia is laying out the Piano Man case to the team. His eyes flick to her fingers and notices her playing with her pen - not something she usually does unless she was a little wired from too much caffeine. Aaron forces himself to focus back on the case, not wanting to break the "no team profiling" rule that they had - especially when it came to Emily. He was teetering on something dangerous, something that had to do with the warmth he felt whenever he saw her. 

However, when her therapist's notes come across his desk, he briefly wonders if something had come up in therapy and she had to continue her sessions. Instead, he frowns after reading through the assessment. 

Interesting. 

He shoots her a text to meet on the plane at 10:30 AM - away from prying eyes and nosy colleagues. It got tiring, having your behavior scrutinized by some of the best behavioral specialists he's ever worked with and this conversation, especially the fact that it was with Emily, was better done away without their every move being profiled.

Something was going on and he was determined to find out what. 

\-- 

She climbs on the plane and is surprised to only see his familiar back on the plane. She glances at her watch and confirms that no, she is not early, but where was the rest of the team?

"Hey." She greets him as he politely chirps her greeting back, not looking at her but focusing on the file in his hands. "I'm sorry. I thought you said 10:30."

"I did. For you." He gestures to the seat across from her. "Have a seat."

He doesn't look up to her while she's sitting down and she finds it odd. His brow is furrowed, the lines across his forehead are prominent as he continues to read through whatever was in the file in front of him. He only looked that way when they were really stuck in a case - it was the face he made when his concentration was almost laser-focused and it seemed out of place in the BAU's jet. 

"I received Dr. Merrill's evaluation. I wanted to review it with you." Only at the end of his sentence does he look up at her, asking for consent. She's very confused. They were all at the office around 30 minutes ago, why did he wait to call her in now?

"Here?" She asks, almost pointing out the obvious that they were inside the jet. 

"Well, I get tired of being profiled through my office window." 

"Well, what's there to discuss?" She asks defensively. "She gave me a clean bill of health."

Hotch smirks, because they both know that yes, it was a clean bill of health - but there were some things she may have side-stepped. 

"Patient shows no hesitation tackling difficult goals as part of reintegrating into her life." Hotch begins to read from her file. His lips turn up imperceptibly, trying to hide his small smile. Her doctor clearly did not know the half of it - Emily never had trouble tackling difficult goals before; he knew even in the face of massive trauma it wouldn't be an issue. 

"She's reached out to her mother." He looks pointedly at her, who sighs because she knows she's been caught. 

"I'm going to-"

"And has started a romantic relationship with a man named Sergio."

His heart may have jumped slightly reading those words in his office. It wasn't until his brain makes the connection that Sergio is her cat that his surprise (and a brief flicker of jealousy that the would never admit to) began to subside. Instead, he had to fight the urge to laugh at the fact that Emily would have her therapist think that her cat was her boyfriend so that she gave her a clean bill of health. 

She fights the urge to cringe because okay, maybe it was a bit much to describe her cat's support of her nightmares, while excluding the fact that he  _ was _ a cat, to get her therapist to think she was in a relationship.

"Now, I don't care if you lie to your therapist. All I care about is how your behavior affects your job."

That's because this, taking care of the team, was his job. And he couldn't have her out there knowing that she was making questionable decisions, decisions that she probably wouldn't have made before, because  _ he _ wasn't looking out for her. 

She's a little offended, because she's trying her hardest and the team is starting to trust her again, and she doesn't think that behavior should be taken against her. 

"Well, I don't think it has." She argues. She feels her anger flare up a little because she is more than professional in the office and in the field. 

But he knows her. Hotch catches her eye, saying the next words coolly. 

"You've been overcompensating."

"How have I--" She starts to ask the question, but she already knows that he knows. 

"You've rushed to repair your relationship with Morgan." How couldn't she rush to fix what she had broken with him? All she could do for months was hear his voice in her ear, telling her how he knew about what she did for Declan and how  _ proud _ he was. 

And that look he gave her when she first strolled back into the office, that look of devastation when he realized he had been lied to. 

She had to fix it. She just had to. 

"You've become an emotional sounding board for Reid and Rossi."

"That's being a good friend." She argues because that's what the team gives to each other, the companionship and friendship to go through everything that they do. 

"You offered me parenting advice." Not that it was unwelcome, because he did end up following her advice and encouraged Jack to talk to Haley more. That night, he walked past Jack's creaked door and could hear him whispering to the blown-out candle on his nightstand. 

But Emily didn't have any children, or helped raise any. The only child she had truly taken care of was Declan and he doubts that she ever dealt with talking a child through bullying - there were way too many important matters to settle for his safety from his terrorist father. 

Emily knew he made a point there. Maybe she wasn't the most qualified when it came to parenting. 

"Okay, so maybe I have been working a little bit harder to regain people's trust." She admits. It's a little scary how Hotch had read her with such an accuracy and it shouldn't surprise her, given that he is the Unit Chief to the top Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI, but there was something so personal about the way he had just picked up on all her efforts. 

"Is that such a bad thing?" She questions, because she just wants to be the person they trusted again - the one who didn't lie to all of them about being  _ dead _ .

"No." He pauses. "It only is if you use it to avoid dealing with what you went through."

There's a resoluteness in her eyes at his unasked question. 

_ Are you avoiding it? _

"But I'm not. I  _ chose _ to come back here." She did, because this was winning against Doyle. He had promised her that he would take away her life if she didn't give up Declan and when she ended up in Paris with the team all mourning her in the States, he had done just that. 

He had taken away her life - her family, her friends, her job. 

This. Being back with the BAU, going back to the life he had promised to take away from her, this was winning against Doyle. 

"Why? Because I care about the people I work with? Yes." That wasn't the issue. It never was. "But also because it's clean."

She explains that just the sheer knowledge of knowing which side she was supposed to be on helped her. It helped her sleep at night, knowing that someone who wanted to do harm to other people, they were the ones she was putting away. 

She wasn't playing the relentless mind games that she had to play while she was with Interpol. Hiding like a wolf in a pack of sheep. 

He believes that she only had the best of intentions coming back. 

But he also knew that she was human. 

"Ok." He relents, letting her know that this discussion was coming to an end. "But I want you to make a deal with me."

Emily cocks her head in curiosity at his question. 

"You're going to go weeks, months even, feeling fine." In their line of work, it was too easy to push away their personal problems when dealing with serial killers who all had deadlines. They could compartmentalize and tuck their problems away in a box until the box was too full and burst. He knows, because he remembers the first few months after Haley had died. He had thrown himself so much into work just so he didn't have to deal with the profound sadness that he lost someone who he loved so deeply and the uncertainty of his and Jack's future. 

"And then, you're going to have a bad day. Just let me know when you do."

His first bad day was three months after Haley died. It was a case in Wyoming, a mother who had been stabbed in her home while her little three year old was locked in the closet. That night, in a dingy motel room in Wyoming, he drank scotch as his grief poured out of him in waves. He didn't want that for her. He didn't want her dealing with this alone.

"That's it?" Emily asks, sighing in relief that it wasn't something outrageous like going back to therapy. 

"That's it." He confirms. She agrees and there's a brief moment of silence, before Hotch holds up the folder and puts it on the table. 

"Sergio?" He has to ask because  _ really _ ? She just sighs, nodding. 

"He is the perfect man. He doesn't hog the covers and he poops in a box."

"Don't hog the covers - noted." He scribbles in the air like he's taking note and she laughs. 

"I don't do well when someone hogs my covers, Aaron." His given name slips from her lips easily and she realizes this is the first time she's ever said his name in any work-related setting. She had stuck to Hotch because she needed the reminder that at work, he was still her superior. 

But this conversation, where he was clearly both Aaron and Hotch at the same time, had blurred the ever fading line. 

Before he has a chance to retort, the rest of the team files into the jet, holding mountains of files from the 12 victims related to the Piano Man. He takes her folder, tucking it away into his bag because he knew that if she wanted to tell the team, she would. 

For now, it would just be another one of their secrets. 

**

Houston is exhausting. 

She sympathizes with the victims - they all do. To live through one terrifying nightmare that was already inconceivable to most people, only to be forced to live through it again. Talking to each of the victims and forcing them to relive their worst fears only to let them know it was because their monster had returned. They don't want to cooperate and she knows why, because the system is just too unfair to the victims that they end up getting victimized again, this time by the one thing that had sworn to protect them. 

And just when they think they have him, a sleazeball by the name of Herman Scobie, that flirts with her and makes her feel disgusting especially when Diana bursts into tears on the other side of the glass, it turns out its not him. He was a disgusting human being, much like the others they've come across, but he didn't rape 12 women and kill one of them. 

Hotch asks her to interview Herman again with him and she agrees, a little relieved that Aaron was going to be there when she faced him again. She knew that she had to insinuate her sex life with Herman to build rapport, but it didn't make her feel any less disgusted by him. Emily was glad Aaron was there - a gentle, grounding presence in the room. 

They make a great team - goading Herman on just enough to reveal that he was targeting Regina Lampert. The team is sent into a frenzy when Garcia reveals video that shows Regina's premeditation on the man who was playing piano at the bar. They all rush to the house, Hotch stepping on the pedal a little faster when the 911 call comes in from the supposed Piano Man. 

They arrive at her house and push in with SWAT the moment they hear a gunshot. Aaron calls out with a loud "FBI" before they storm into the house to find Regina with a gun pointed at Hamilton Bartholemew. 

"Regina, look at me." Emily coaxes the frightened woman, who's insanity in her eyes she can relate to. It's one she's personally experienced before - the fear and the hatred that mixes when you're faced with your biggest monster. It was enough to drive anyone, even those trained for that life, completely insane. "Drop the gun."

She doesn't, instead Emily watches as her hands tighten around her gun. She's convinced that it's the Piano Man and god, Emily wishes she could just let her shoot him right there, but there were 12 other people looking for justice and she knew that he deserved a miserable life in a concrete cage rather than the sweet peace and simplicity of death. 

So she lies to her, and tells Regina that Hamilton is innocent and that she should just walk away from this. In the end, Emily convinces Regina to put the gun down and coaxes her like a scared animal to a squad car. She doesn't think much about it, instead proud that they had successfully captured the man and had his fingerprints to help build an airtight case, until Regina asks for her in the interrogation room. 

"Why didn't you let me pull the trigger?" She asks, instead of giving her statement like she promised. 

"Because you would be in prison." Emily says matter-of-factly. 

But Regina doesn't see it that way because she's right - he will get a lawyer, and if he gets a good one maybe he has a chance at parole. She tries to reassure her, to let her know that they worked their hardest on this and build a case that would sentence him to life with no parole. 

"Can you guarantee that?" Emily hesitates because there are no guarantees in this line of work and Regina seems to know it well. 

Her heart sinks when Regina starts talking about being revictimized by the system. She's seen her fair share of stories that don't end up with their monsters getting the justice they deserved. Sometimes, the system could just be unfair. 

"You have no idea what it's like - " Regina has to muffle the sob that threatens to escape her. "- when the monster from your nightmares comes back for you."

Except she does. She knows all too well. The insanity that took hold of her after those first few weeks of learning about Doyle getting released from prison - she spent countless nights, wide awake with her guns scattered in easy to reach areas in anticipation for her monster. The fear that followed her every waking moment that she spent in DC, always looking over her shoulder for the slightest misstep in her environment. It was maddening and even in Paris, where she knew that she was safe, her gun still stayed with her under her pillow.

She shifts uncomfortably with the weight of those memories and Regina, unfortunately, reads it. It was uncomfortable, so uncomfortable in fact that she couldn't use all of her years of training in the art of reconnaissance to mask her emotions. Regina challenges her, clearly looking for the truth, and Emily knows she can't give it to her. 

"Did you kill him?"

Emily answers the question, part in solidarity for the victims of monsters, and the other, bigger, part is because she needs to remember. 

"I didn't pull the trigger."

But he's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He was  _ dead _ .

Doyle is dead.

"You killed your monster." Regina laments. "I have to live with mine."

**

Regina's words stick with her from the moment she leaves the interrogation room, no further words spoken because there weren't any left. Regina was right. 

She got to live with the satisfaction that the only place Doyle was going to live was in her memories, but she had pulled Regina away from that precipice for justice. But how did this feel like justice, when another woman who's entire existence was now clouded in fear and uncertainty that someday her monster would be back for her, no matter how improbable it might be?

She goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water in her face to try and counter the hot stinging behind her eyes. She could feel her emotions reach an almost tipping point and she knows she needs to leave. The air felt heavy, unbreathable, and she just needed to  _ breathe _ . Emily rushes to grab her stuff from the precinct, telling the team that she felt a little unwell and was going to go back to their hotel to lie down before they left in a few hours. No one was privy to the conversation in the interrogation room, so they think nothing of it. 

Except for Hotch, who watches her with a concerned eye as she turns back towards the entrance of the precinct. The moment she's out, she leans against the stone wall of the station and lets her tears fall. 

**

Hotch finds her on the plane, following a cryptic text to meet her 30 minutes earlier than they had planned to leave. 

He spots her, back turned to him, and he approaches her with caution as he sits opposite her. He knew something was wrong, but the tears that glitter in her eye tells him that something was indeed very very wrong. 

"I'm having a bad day." She keeps to her end of the deal with a soft, withering voice. There's a moment of silence, where fat tears start to grow in her eyes and this vulnerability that he was so fortunate to witness makes his heart ache in his chest. 

So, he decides to keep his end of their deal. The unspoken one he made to himself when he realized that her scars were still fresh, so fresh that she couldn't let the team see. 

But she trust him enough to let him see her when she felt down and defeated. And that, he was infinitely grateful for. 

"Do you want to come to the zoo with us tomorrow?"

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I posting this at 3 AM after I watched the "Unknown Subject" episode a billion times to get this scene right? 
> 
> You bet your ass I did.
> 
> Also, I need you all to know that I needed to see Emily/Sergio almost as much as I needed Hotchniss.


	4. Chapter 4

She doesn't know why she agreed to going to the zoo. Actually, she does, but none of them were good enough reasons to go to the zoo with her boss and his son on their day off. 

"Is this okay, Serg?" Emily whispers to her cat, who stares up at her curiously. They lock eyes for a moment and Emily sighs, rubbing her face tiredly. She hadn't gotten any sleep last night - upon landing from Houston, Hotch insisted that she go home and get some rest and that the paperwork would be there on Monday. Too tired and too rattled from the Piano Man case, she agreed and crawled home only to pop a bottle of wine and cry into Sergio's fur, who stayed dutifully in her arms until the tears had ceased. 

He had texted her this morning. 

_ Are you still good for the zoo today? _

She had forgotten that she agreed, too wrapped up in Regina's cryptic voice to forget that she had smiled with tears in her eyes and told him that it would be nice. And at that moment, it was. The thought of momentarily forgetting everything that happened and surround herself with families and their children who were oblivious to the true nature of evil that lurks among them sounded appealing. Emily had almost typed out a half-assed excuse to try and grab another day just sulking at home, but his next text got her to think that maybe this wouldn't be so bad afterall. 

_ Jack's been looking forward to seeing you again. _

It had been a while since she last saw Jack - the last time being before everything with Doyle had happened. It's been almost a year, and she's sure he's shot up like a weed and she missed seeing him, distinctly remembering the first time she knew she loved the boy. 

_ Emily walked the wide hallways, letting her heels click on the wooden floor as she let herself stray from her team. Haley's ceremony was beautiful - she had never known that Hotch had married his high school sweetheart and it made perfect sense. Hotch would be the type to fall wildly and madly in love and be truthful to her for the rest of their days. _

_ Or as many days as life would allow. _

_ Emily finds a balcony, tucked away at the end of the hall and decides to get some fresh air. The weight of grief and just not knowing how to react when something this tragic happens in your family weighing heavily on her chest. She watched Hotch and Jack the end of the funeral, offering flowers and goodbyes to their greatest love. She knew that Hotch tried to stay strong as the leader that he always was, but there was a fear in his eye. Not the same, frantic fear as when Foyet had Haley - it was more steeled, a silent look in his eyes that conveyed that he was braving this storm for his son. Jack needed him and now was not the time to fall apart. _

_ But he was shattered inside. And they knew it. _

_ The wooden door easily opens and she steps out into the cool spring air, letting the air fill her lungs. Her head snaps to the side when she hears the soft rustling next her. _

_ "Hello?" She questions, almost berating herself for not bringing a gun out here. _

_ A small figure emerges from the planter box next to the door and Emily sighs in relief. _

_ She wasn't sure if she could really deal with psychopaths right now. _

_ "Hi." Emily crouches down to the small boy that she can see has Hotch's features, nervously fidgeting with his tie as he avoids eye contact with her. "What are you doing out here?" _

_ "It's too loud inside." His small, weak voice almost breaks her heart. She always thought that Jack was lucky that he hadn't seen what Foyet had done to Haley, but she was almost certain that he heard it. He was probably scared by a sound that happened inside - a sound probably too close to what he experienced on that dreaded afternoon. _

_ Emily thinks for a moment, before deciding to sit down on the floor next to wear Jack is standing, her dress be damned. She pats the empty spot next to her and Jack obediently follows, sitting with his legs curled to his chest. They sit in silence for a moment, before Emily speaks up. _

_ "Do you know what makes me feel better when I'm sad?" Emily asks, as Jack just shrugs. _

_ "I like stories. I bet your Mom read you a lot of stories, didn't she?" Jack's head lifts from his knees for a moment, nodding as Emily smiled at him. _

_ "Well, do you want to hear a good one?" Jack shrugs, but Emily launches into her grand tale anyways. _

_ She talks about a lonely boy who is lost in the cave. It was dark, and he couldn't see in front of him. He was scared - he had gotten lost in the caves and didn't know his way out. Around him, there were loud bangs that came from the dragon they said that lurked in these caves, so he ran further and further into the cave until eventually, he reached the end. He feels lost and lonely and starts to cry as the bangs get louder and closer. He curls up into the smallest ball he can so that the dragon doesn't see him. At that moment, he can only think of one person that he wants to save him. _

_ He screamed 'Daddy' as loud as he could and his Dad ran towards him with a flashlight! His Dad expertly lead him out of the caves, leaving the loud bangs behind. _

_ "So remember, if you feel sad or lost, you can always call your Daddy and he'll come running." Jack had inched closer to her during the story - now resting at her side with her arm draped over his shoulder. His tiny hands clung to her dress, bunching the fabric in his fists. _

_ "Like a superhero?" Jack asks as Emily just nods. _

_ "Just like a superhero." _

_ "Are you a superhero?" Jack asks inquisitively, making eye contact with her for the first time since she stepped unto the balcony. "Like Daddy?" _

_ Emily chuckles, nodding. _

_ "Yep. My name is Emily. I work with your Dad, remember?" She truly doesn't expect him to remember. He was surrounded by the team, JJ taking lead on keeping him entertained while Strauss interrogated him on what happened to Foyet. She had just watched in the sidelines, absolutely heartbroken at another child losing a parent. Emily encases Jack's small hand with hers and gives him a handshake as he giggles and pulls his hand away. _

_ "I'm Jack!" Jack introduces himself excitedly, clearly cheered up from the story. Just then, a loud commotion pulls Emily's attention to the door, just to see a wide-eyed, frantic Hotch. _

_ "Jack!" He exclaims in relief, kneeling down to pick up the boy. "What are you doing out here?" He mirrors her question, though his is mostly in relief than in curiosity. He looks at Prentiss, who smiles at him and straightens out her dress. _

_ "It was too loud inside. I found him out here while I was getting some air so I told him a really great story. Right JacK?" She asks as Jack nodded enthusiastically. _

_ "There was a dragon in the caves!" He says and Hotch just sighs, squeezing his son one last time before putting him on his feet. _

_ "You have to tell me or Aunt Jess if it gets too loud okay? You can't just run off on your own without us knowing." Hotch says seriously, but the relief etched on his face is obvious. Jack throws his arms around his Dad and apologizes, before turning around and hugging Emily. _

_ Both adults are surprised at the interaction, but Emily just smiles and rubs his back. _

_ "What do you say to Emily?" Hotch prompts as Jack squeezes one more time before letting go. _

_ "Bye Emmy!" Her heart clenches at the nickname, a maternal feeling rising inside of her. Hotch mouths a silent 'thank you', and right then Emily silently promises to herself that no harm, none of the likes of Foyet or the other psychopaths that they deal with, would come to Jack as long as she could help it. He's lived through enough. _

Jack had determined after that that Emily was his favorite of Daddy's superheroes. He searched for her when he came to the office, always pulling her away from the bullpen to go see something cool at Pen's desk. Hotch would just smile and chuckle as his determined son led her away from work to see a ball-shooting unicorn in Garcia's office. 

Hotch scanned his environment nervously, his phone in one hand and tightly holding on to Jack, who was desperate to see the lizards. He watched the crowds of families filtering in and out of the zoo to see if he could spot Emily. He frowned, glancing at his watch. It wasn't like her to be five minutes late and she didn't text him about being late. 

"Where's Emmy?" Jack demanded, clearly getting more impatient by the minute. 

"I'm sure she's--" Hotch is suddenly interrupted by a tap on his shoulder, turning around and seeing a shyly smiling Emily Prentiss in a pair of jeans and a cardigan thrown over a white shirt. He had never seen her look so casual, except for maybe one time that the entire team went to the bar for a drink on a Friday night that they didn't have any cases. Her jeans hugged her curves perfectly as she wore a white tight-fitted t-shirt that just slightly accentuated her chest and-- 

"Hi Emmy!" Jack yells excitedly from behind Hotch, snapping him out of his train of thought. Emily chuckles, kneeling down to encircle her arms around the not-so-small boy. 

"Look at how big you've gotten!" Emily exclaimed as Jack nodded vigorously. 

"I grew a whole two inches!" He stuck up two fingers, proud of his progress growing as most kids were. Far from the petite, 5 year old boy from when she had last seen him - he was now able to reach her waist with the top of his head and she wants to scold herself for not asking to see him sooner. 

"Dad said you were out fighting bad guys, right?" Jack asks as Emily smiles, tears pricking in the back of her eyes. Part of her was relieved that Hotch didn't tell him that she had died like she was forced to for the rest of the team. It was already tough to believe from the standpoint of some of the best FBI agents, but to a child it seemed unconceivable.

And she never wanted him to think that he had lost her the same way he had lost his mother - at the hands of another bad guy. 

But another, bigger part of her was just so sad that she had already missed so much of him. Hotch waited patiently, giving her the space to answer Jack's questions for herself. 

"I was." She confirms, ruffling the shaggy head of hair on his head. 

"Did you win?" He asks, with all the innocent that only a child could muster. She's glad that he's retained his innocence, despite everything with Foyet. It was only a testament to how much of a good job Aaron was doing raising him. She grabbed his nose, wiggling it as he giggled and swatted her hands away playfully. 

"What do you think?" Jack thinks for a moment before a large smile breaks out on his face, reaching for her hand along with Aaron's before tugging both of them towards the entrance of the zoo. 

"Come on! I wanna see the lizards!"

\--

When they get a chance to say hello, it's mid-afternoon and Jack is falling asleep while eating his lunch. The excited boy had pulled Emily and Aaron around as many reptiles he could find, his hand firmly grasping Emily's the whole time. He would stop at each exhibit, attempting to read the words aloud as Emily helped prompt him for longer words like "amphibian" or "exoskeletal". Aaron just lingered behind the two, giving them a chance for a long overdue reconnection. The same warmth, the one he got while accidentally seeing her bend over or when she smiled at him, was now almost hot in his chest when he watched Emily and Jack. 

Emily let Jack spew facts that he's amassed from the many reptile books he was obsessed with, pointing out his favorite animals while Emily asked him good questions that sometimes they would just Google on her phone so that they would know the answer. She listened patiently, picked him up and let him look into exhibits that were too high for him, and led him away when he started to talk the ear off of the zoo attendants while they were holding a large snake. 

Jack, on the other hand, had pretty much forgotten that Aaron existed. His eyes would dart to his Dad just to make sure he was still following, but other than that, all of his attention was on Emily. He always waited for her at the next exhibit he was going to, determined to wait for her before he started reading the descriptions of the animals. He looked so proud when Emily would praise him, eager to show-off his knowledge for her and he listened intently when Emily explained some things that he didn't understand. 

He's finally all tuckered out, falling asleep on his sandwich as Emily glances up at Hotch. 

"I didn't get a chance to say hi." She says, a slight smile on her face. 

"Well, you were preoccupied." He motions to his sleeping son, who has now fallen asleep at the table. Jack had spent the better part of the day talking and excited, so Aaron wasn't surprised that he was tired. He was almost too wired to sleep the night before, excited at the prospect of both Emily and lizards. 

"I'm glad. I really needed the distraction." She smiles at Jack sadly, running a few fingers through his hair. 

"How're you holding up?" He asks quietly, not wanting to alert his sleeping son to their conversation.

"Better." Better in the sense that she wasn't having nightmares again, but she still couldn't help but let her thoughts float every once in a while to Declan - especially after seeing Jack today. She was reminded that this is why she went through what she did with Doyle - for Declan to have a happy life despite his traumas, just like Jack. 

But that still didn't make her feel any less guilty. 

"You did the right thing." Her thoughts are interrupted by Aaron, who is now looking at her with a certain softness in his eyes she's only seen when he looked at Jack.

"With Regina or with Doyle?" She asks, turning her gaze away to break from the intensity of his stare. 

"Both."

She bites her lower lip, cursing the tears that are threatening her once more as he continues. 

"You did all of this because it was the right thing to do. For Declan and for the twelve victims." Emily sighs, looking up at Aaron, the words threatening to burst from her lips. But she's too ashamed, so all she can do is whisper: 

"I think I screwed her over."

Hotch remembers now their conversation right before Houston. 

_ I don't have to worry about screwing someone over to make a case. _

And now, he understands. Why she felt so strongly about Houston and why she felt like she had failed Regina. 

"But you didn't fail her." Emily's eyes flit back to his for a moment before distracting herself with Jack's hair, and he continues. 

"You didn't fail her because there was enough evidence to put the Piano Man away  _ for life _ . You got Scobie to talk, you got us her name in time before she makes a mistake that changes her life, one that's not as easy as just moving on."

Aaron reaches out, squeezing her hand softly. 

"You gave her her life back, Emily."

She smiles a watery smile, pulling her hand away to dab at the corners of her eye with her cardigan.

"You just have a way with words, don't you, Hotchner?" She uses his last name because this vulnerability, this opening up of hers, was not something that she would normally do and to use either of his names seemed almost dissonant - this was something entirely new, something maybe deeper than just the Aaron she knows. 

Before Hotch can respond, Jack stirs in his seat, popping his head up only to reveal his face full of sleep lines from his jacket. They both chuckle before Hotch picks him up and Emily makes work of clearing their table. When she's making her way back from throwing their sandwich wrappers, her heart beats a little harder in her chest as Aaron swiped away some of Jack's hair and kissed his forehead softly. 

Something about Aaron Hotchner made her pulse jump, and she knew she was in trouble. 

\--

Aaron insists on offering Emily a ride home, saying that he wasn't going to let her ride the train when she lived a couple of blocks away from the zoo. She eventually relents, because she's actually also really tired from walking around all day, that and she only got maybe two hours of sleep last night. They ride in silence, content in listening to Jack softs snores coming from the backseat. Emily falls asleep on the ride back, her eyes closed and mouth slightly open that Aaron just smiles looking at her and Jack. He's glad for the afternoon DC traffic, completely content with letting Emily get more sleep.

He pulls up in front of her apartment, hopping out of the car to open her door and gently shake her awake. She jolts up, darting around to see what danger lay ahead and Aaron just chuckles. 

"I think this is it?" Aaron says, motioning to the building behind him as Emily nods and wipes the sleep from her eyes. 

"Yeah it is. I'm sorry, I didn't think I was so tired." She yawns, pulling her bag out with her and smiles sleepily at him before turning to Jack. 

"Is he going to be okay?" She asks, hoping her absence from Paris didn't affect him too much. She noticed that he clung a little tighter, his small fingers encased in his like he was scared she was going to vanish right in front of his eyes. 

"Jack? Yeah he's going to be fine. He just missed you, that's all." He smiles, making brief eye contact with Emily. 

"We both did."

Emily just stares at him for a moment, before she reaches forward to wrap her arms around his waist. She mutters a 'thank you' into his sweater, just as he holds her just a little tighter as if to protect her from the outside world. There's a light smell of lavender in her hair, and she fits into him perfectly, that Aaron can't help but pull away at the presence of those thoughts. 

"Get some sleep okay?" He requests, squeezing her shoulder in a more appropriate manner than their hug just a few seconds prior. Emily nods, smiling at him and leaning up to brush her lips on his cheek. 

"I'll see you on Monday, Aaron." 

He has to stop himself from cupping his cheek and gaping at her while she walked to her front door like he was the star in one of those romcoms Haley used to love that he never really got the appeal of. Instead, he gets back in his car and drives on home, his thoughts on Emily the entire way home. 

Fuck. He was  _ screwed _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I wanted them to kiss so badly. But it felt too soon. 
> 
> We have some more things to go through first.


	5. Chapter 5

"You're going down, Hotchner!" Emily yells, alerting strange looks from people passing by, as she pedals a little harder and focuses on Aaron's blue shirt. 

But, she's too late, and he slides in front of his car with a triumphant grin and she pulls to a stop. 

She pants, exhausted from the last three miles she spent trying to catch up with him, only to be met by an arrogant Aaron.

"I'm sorry, who's the slowpoke now?" Aaron jeers as Emily just throws him an angry look. Aaron laughs, extending his hand out to help her off her bike as she just rolls her eyes at him. 

"You purposefully ran that yellow light." 

"I did not."

"Did too." Emily sticks her tongue out at him like a petulant child and Aaron is suddenly overwhelmed with the want to kiss her. It's been happening more and more - these flickers of feelings that he gets whenever he's around her. Ever since they went to the zoo last week, Aaron knew he was barreling towards something extremely complicated. 

She was his subordinate, his friend, his teammate, and his colleague. 

And maybe that's exactly why he couldn't stop thinking about her. 

She shakes her hair loose from the messy ponytail that she had thrown on at the start of the day and Aaron can't help but wonder if it still smelt of the lavender he caught a whiff off in front of her apartment. A loud, shrill sound suddenly cuts through Aaron's thoughts and he reaches for his phone. 

"It's JJ. We're getting called in." Emily says, eyes furrowed in concern at being called in on a weekend. "Shit. I don't have any clothes."

"I think you left your go-bag underneath your desk." Aaron offers and Emily's eyes suddenly snap to him. He suddenly realizes it meant he was watching her, which to be fair, he really  _ wasn't _ . His eyes would just normally wander to the bullpen, genuinely curious at what his team was doing. He just happened to see her stuff her go-bag underneath her desk on Thursday just as she was leaving. 

"Just shower at my place. If you shower quickly we can get to the office before anyone else and you can change before the case briefing."

Emily is taken aback but how casual Aaron is being in letting her shower at his apartment, something that sounded extremely intimate. 

But their phones ping again and she knew they didn't have time. 

So she nods, and wonders if this was finally crossing that line. 

\--

His apartment is almost exactly what she remembers. 

Except, it doesn't feel as empty as it was. 

There is evidence of Jack all over the apartment - some Legos scattered on the floor, a pair of rubber sneakers right next to Aaron's leather work shoes, and a messy dining table full of crayons and different reptile books. 

"Sorry about the mess - we woke up a little late this morning."

She doesn't know why he's apologizing - he had a 6 year old and was a single father. Sometimes, life is messy; as they've so seen over the course of their lives. 

He hands her a towel he pulled from the linen closet and directs her to his bedroom, deciding to take his shower in Jack's bathroom since he was with Jessica today. She nods, smiling briefly at him before she closes his bedroom door. Despite the mess that was in the common living areas, Hotch's bedroom was spotless - his bed neatly made, an empty glass and some case files on his bedside table. She rolls her eyes and smiles to herself; of course he would bring work home. 

His bathroom is almost as spotless as his bedroom. The mirror has almost no streaks in it, no evidence of toothpaste in the sink, and...

Emily quickly snaps out of her profiling thoughts and slightly dislikes that that is where her brain would go first - profiling Aaron's living spaces. 

Aaron hears the water start to run in his bathroom and he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. There was something about Emily using his shower that felt intrusive somehow, even though technically they were in his home, like this was a moment he should not have access to as her superior. 

He pushes the thoughts of a wet and naked Emily Prentiss out of his head and turns on the water - hoping the scalding water would burn away his thoughts. When he's done, her shower is still running and he forgets that his suit is still in his bedroom. He curses himself quietly, and hopes that he can just sneak in and grab it before she's done. 

But of course, just as he's about to reach for his suit in his closet, when the bathroom door swings open to reveal a newly-showered Emily Prentiss. 

"Oh! Sorry!" She squeaks, quickly averting her eyes and scurrying out the bedroom door in the same clothes she came in this morning. 

Aaron clearly doesn't remember what it was like to blush, but he felt his entire body go hot as Emily quickly closed the door behind her. He almost wants to groan, but he knows that he didn't have time to linger on it because there was a body waiting for them. 

They drive to the Bureau in silence - both of them unsure of what to say. Emily's thoughts couldn't stop flashing back to seeing a damp Aaron Hotchner, a towel wrapped around his waist and hair unruly. His eyes went wide when he saw her and she hopes she hid her face enough to conceal the color that filled her cheeks. It took her several deep breaths and thinking of dismembered limbs to cool the heat that was pooling deep in her. 

It's only when they pull into the Quantico parking garage that he speaks. 

"Sorry - I forgot my suit in there." He says quietly, unsure of her reaction to the whole situation. Instead, she starts to laugh and he chuckles along with her, because honestly, it was  _ ridiculous _ .

They've seen each other at their worst - fighting for their lives in hospital beds, covered in dirt and debris, or simply on their worst days. 

This just felt like another piece that clicks into place - another layer of intimacy that maybe they were always meant to achieve. 

"It's fine, Hotch." She says coolly, transitioning to his work name because they were at work now. They were Agents Hotchner and Prentiss - Emily and Aaron would have their discussion about this another day. 

They make their way into the BAU, both of them secretly hoping that no one on the team was around yet. The elevator opens and it looks like they're in the clear, so Emily makes her way to her desk to grab her bag while Aaron heads into his office - no words spoken between them. He watches as she ducks away towards the bathroom and lets his shoulders sag in relief. 

He didn't want rumors floating around the office, especially not around the best behavioral profilers in the United States. 

"Work out this morning, Aaron?" Dave says, startling Aaron as he steps into his office with a twinkle in his eye. 

Shit. 

\-- 

Emily sits as far from Hotch on the jet as possible on their way to Atlanta and honestly, Hotch is a little grateful. 

Aaron is pretty sure that Dave his catching on to something, even know Hotch didn't know what that something was. They were just colleagues training together. 

But when Aaron had provided that information, Dave had just raised a knowing eyebrow at him and clucked his tongue. 

"Okay. If you say so." And changed the subject to some lectures he was hoping to do in the coming month and Aaron just nods in agreement, clearly wanting out of this conversation as fast as possible. He avoids eye contact with both Dave and Emily throughout the briefing, instead focusing on the ritualistic killings in a casino in Atlanta. 

He sends her and Reid to check out the crime scene, using 'Prentiss' instead of calling her Emily and heads to the FBI Field Office with Morgan while JJ and Rossi go to the local authorities. When they figure out that they're looking for a gambler instead of a mob member, there's already another body that they're looking at. A high-end escort, dumped in an alley. 

They're the last ones in for the meeting, so the only two chairs left around the table are next to each other. They sit almost stiffly - hoping not to touch and their eyes on their case files. Dave almost wants to roll his eyes because if they were trying to act normal, they were doing the worst job they could. 

They're trying to connect Patti Riolo and Danny Savino, when he starts completing the missing pieces of her theory with his. She never realized how seamlessly they completed each other's ideas, like they shared one and the same mind. No matter how much she tries to stop it - they can't help but linger around each other. Aaron starts following her to crime scenes, and yes, they were going as a team, but he always stayed right by her. A small part of her knows that this might be a bad idea, but a bigger part of her feels just a little bit safer with Aaron around. 

So, they spend most of their time just silently by each other's side; a stable presence as they try to scramble for all the pieces of this puzzle. When he yawns, Emily suddenly appears with a fresh cup of coffee and lays it on the table without a word. After almost 4 hours of sitting in a parked car on top of the hill facing the high-stakes poker game, he knocks on her window and hands her a granola bar since they haven't eaten. It's the little things that make them faster and smarter, and maybe that's why they're on top of their game. 

Even though the unsub slips through their fingers at the poker game, Aaron figures out just as fast what his endgame was. 

They all rush to Curtis Barns and his wife, but time runs out. They save Teri and Liz, but Curtis gets the escape he wanted - a bullet. At 8:00, it all ends, and they sigh in relief. When the crime scene is cleared, the body taken away, and the Dorsey sisters off to the hospital, the team heads back to their hotel - all their energy sucked away as soon as the adrenaline faded. Reid, JJ, Morgan, and Rossi all decide to head to their rooms for the night, clearly over all the gambling in their hotel lobby. 

They say their goodnights and as the team heads towards the elevator, she feels a hand on her back and his voice in her ear. 

"Wanna get a drink?" She's exhausted, but she agrees because even though they were together all day - she just wants a little more time with just him. 

They find the hotel bar, nestled by a large dance floor where a jazz band is playing. There are couples and small groups scattered around in the tables, clearly 11 PM not being a late time in Sin City. They slide into bar stools, opting away from the dimly-lit booths because maybe they've already crossed too many lines today. 

He orders a whiskey, neat and she orders a vodka soda because she hates dark liquor; a fact that Aaron was surprised to find out. They clink their glasses and sip on them in silence, comfortable just being in each other's presence. Eventually, she breaks the silence with her brows furrowed, a frown lining her face.

"I hate how we really do end up like our parents." Her, life dedicated to her career and not to any family, much like her mother. Him, following in his Dad's footsteps to Georgetown and pressuring Sean to do the same. 

"I guess some things we're not meant to escape." He gives her a sad smile and she just sighs. 

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a drag." She whispers and he shakes her head because no, she isn't apologizing for anything.

"You're not a drag." He takes a small sip of liquid courage, because his words flow so much easier with a little grease - especially weighted words like:

"I just like being here with you."

His words almost take her breath away, and she has to grip her glass a little tighter to make sure that she didn't run. Because she wanted to run, the intensity of her feelings an unwelcome weight on her chest, but something about Aaron Hotchner glued her to her seat. She doesn't look at him and he doesn't look at her, because they both know how dangerously they were teetering on the final line - the one where they crash and burn into each other. 

But maybe, just one of them had to cross the line first. 

She extends her hand, standing up as he looks blankly at her. 

"Dance with me." He stares at her hand for a brief second, before slipping an easy hand into hers. She leads them to the dance floor, her hand encased in his and he can't help but think that they just might be a perfect fit. The band is playing something smooth and slow - the melding of trumpets and sax in the air adding to the atmosphere. 

One that was already heavy with unspoken words and unfinished actions. 

She steps into his arms, leaning her head against his neck and her hand in his. His arm loops easily around her waist, letting his hand come to rest on her lower back as they swayed softly to the music. He pressed his nose a little closer to her hair and it doesn't smell like lavender at all.

It smells exactly like his shampoo. 

The intimacy of it all, the way her cheek was pressed against his neck, how her soft breaths brushed against his suit jacket and how she just fit so seamlessly against him - all while smelling like her with just a twinge of him, was making him want to screw it all. The fraternization rules, the rumors, all of it. 

He'd happily go through it all for just a taste of this. 

Suddenly, she pulls away to look at him and there's a darkness in her eyes he doesn't think he's ever seen before. The alcohol is humming in his system and it gives him the strength to press her a little closer and dip his head in - 

When a sound of crashing glass echoes near them, and a flustered waiter apologizes to the eyes that are now focused on him, hustling away to grab a broom. 

The moment evaporates, and Emily stiffens when she realizes how close they are and takes a step back. 

"It's getting late. We have an early flight to catch."

She's right - the plane is leaving at 7 AM and Jack has soccer at 9 AM, so he barely has enough time to pick him up from Jessica's and make it to his practice.

He clears his throat and nods, walking in step with her to the elevator as an uncomfortable silence weighed around them. Right before they hop on, she stays back and says that she needs to pick something up from the concierge. He doesn't say anything but a "see you tomorrow" and disappears behind elevator doors. 

She blows out a breath, fingers shaking. She decides to go back to the bar and have another drink. 

Because if she was exhausted earlier, now it's completely disappeared, instead replaced by the feeling that every one of her nerves were standing on edge. He had leaned in so close that she could taste the whiskey on his breath and all she had to do was tip her lips closer and they would have been falling right off the edge. 

Instead, she's reminded where they are. In a hotel, away on a case, while the rest of the BAU was sleeping upstairs. They weren't on some romantic endeavor, they were at  _ work _ .

And their jobs needed them to keep their lives out of their careers. 

So instead of tumbling into the unknown with Aaron, she's reminded that he's still Hotch, her boss, and drinks whiskey instead. 

(Just so maybe, she could taste a little bit of him.)

\--

They fly back from Atlanta and Hotch rushes away as soon as they hit the tarmac because Jack has soccer this morning and part of her hates how she knows that. 

She bids the team goodbye, hoping that they all get some sleep, and takes the train back to her apartment. 

Sergio greets her with his tail up and she drops her go-bag, picking him up and smothering him with affection. Aaron Hotchner doesn't enter her mind again until she's on her second glass of wine later that night, aimlessly watching some reality show in the background. When a half-naked man with only a towel appears on screen, she's suddenly taken back to his bedroom. Water droplets that he missed glistening on his chest, his hair in its natural state instead of the normal, carefully slicked hairstyle. She thinks of him, holding her close as they danced, and the smell of his body wash and the slight twist of alcohol and her hand starts to dip below her waistband without warning. 

She wonders how wrong this is, even if nobody knows about it. 

\--

He texts her the next day. 

_ Tuesday? Fountain head at 7 AM? _

She takes almost two hours to respond, and at that point Aaron wants to chuck his phone out the window. He wondered after that night if he screwed it up, if he screwed it _all_ up, in Atlanta. Maybe he should have said no to the dance, because they both had alcohol and the situation earlier in his bedroom didn't help either. 

Maybe this was all too much, because there were so many implications to everything he did. 

Instead, she texts back. 

_ I'll see you on Tuesday, Hotchner. Bring your A game. _

And on Tuesday morning, she presses fresh coffee into his hands and has a bright smile on her face. He smiles back and they start to stretch, all while she taunts him about how she was going to beat him this time. 

He laughs, because she hasn't yet, but maybe he'll let her. 

Because he'll do anything to keep that smile on her face. 

\-- 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy - you thought they were going to kiss, huh? 
> 
> Me too. But patience, my young padawans. All in good time.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first Hotchniss multi-fic! I've been playing around with the idea of Emily being Aaron's love interest in Season 7 and how that goes and now I've just let my imagination run wild. It will be fluffy enough to make your teeth rot and angsty enough to make your heart hurt.


End file.
